They Say that War is Maddening
by Hunter of Entities
Summary: A berserk rwby xover that I felt needed to be written, takes place during the Great War/100 years war, but is a massive Au to both individual stories. Has Soulsborne references & some NASUve mechanics in it. Story is partially fleshed out, I have a general idea on what I want to happen but not completely how. Since this is berserk expect to read some fucked up shit and please enjoy
1. Chapter 1

**To be frank I don't really know if I ever want to pick up TAIB again. Reason being is that while yes I firmly believe that the soulsborne characters and those inspired by them could fit right at home in rwby, if I write about solely how they play in game then one that leads to easy and cheesy fights. Also it stays rather static. Not to mention I was in the middle of writing a Guts build for the berserker armor, but nothing seemed to fit. I couldn't inscribe the desperation that I wanted to convey into words and attacks that could clearly be seen and telegraphed, I mean sure you can't parry that but the only way anyone in rwby and even soulsborne itself is going to get hit with an attack like that is if they either get parried, want to try to trade blows or get snuck up on. SO here I am writing something that won't equate to garbage. Maybe I can even make my skills in writing increase, though I don't even know if I'll continue this because of the sheer amount of quality I want to place into this story. So here also my shameless begging for reviews, if you like it then feel free to say something if this angers you then tell me why it does, if you want to just flame my entire existence go for it; this is the internet I don't really think there is any space for pride on here, more so if you partake in this site. SOO with all that out of the way here is what I wrote**

By an old dirt road slick with blood and rotting flesh, this flesh came from a tree. This tree was a tree where people had been hung, their crimes if any, were unknown. Traveling nearby was a troupe that traveled the land by horseback for those that were high ranking, drawn by wagon for those that provided comfort purposes or by foot for those that were mere followers within this band. Within the aforementioned wagons sat doctors, cooks, smiths, carpenters, and whores, their purposes though self explanatory were essential to the way this group survived and made their living.

Normally things would be fine, the whores would fuck the men of the troupe to keep their spirits up. The cooks would provide them with food and alcohol, the smiths and carpenters would maintain their equipment, the doctors would maintain their health. Then the rest of the troupe who were mercenaries would fight and raid other groups and cities or strong holds if they were hired, while not an honest living it was still just that. Though sat one whore who looked to be dead to the world, appearing to have collapsed within herself regressing back a state that would be equal to perhaps a child. This woman who must've been thoroughly hurt in order for such a thing to happen, wore an old dingy yellow gown that may have been white once. The only thing notable about the gown besides that was the slight 'v' shaped duvet. On her feet she wore an old and well worn pair of black flats. The woman had an gentle yet angled jawline and soft facial features, and pair of hazel eyes that didn't appear to be seeing very much besides what was directly in front of her. Upon her head spiky brown locks that framed her face and even fell over her eyebrows going as far down as her shoulders. As the wagon made its way past the tree the woman took notice of something within slough of rotting skin and mud.

Within the cesspool of filth lay a baby, a little malnourished, but it looked to be alive. And for that woman it was all she needed to dart from the wagon to go save it. "O-oohhh", she croaks out her voice a bit hoarse from slight dehydration and a lack of use, she scoops the baby into her arms with both vigor and a gentleness that only someone who finds something precious could manage. In the background the woman hears some voices speaking she pays it no mind until a force yanks her by the arm making drop _her_ baby and dragging her to source of the voices. Letting out a surprised scream, she struggles to throw herself back to her baby, which had woken up and made his displeasure known when he the ground. "Uuuu, ahhhhhhh" the cries of baby echoing out as it made it presence known to the troupe who had thought it dead up to this point.

At this point the unnamed whore had been let go, and she had immediately ran to pick him up into her arms. As she secured him, a voice called out to her, "Hey, Shisu", looking over she saw the face of a man who had a strong facial features… Looking over the now named Shisu made eye contact for but a moment before she darted away and back into the cart that came from. Upon sitting down, she looked at her baby and truly fell in love with him. Her eyes seeming to come back alive the more she drank in her baby's appearance. 'He. He has a lot of guts to survive this long without a mama to feed him. But, that is ok…' Shisu thought to herself.

Bring her baby up to her face she places her forehead onto his and holds him there.

 **Three years later**

In a dark tent two women can be seeing fussing over a third who lays on a pallet of blankets with a basin of water nearby. A young boy can also be seen making his way through the darkness in the tent stopping nearby a wall.

"Hold on, Shisu!", an aged female voice says sternly. Clothed in white the old woman tries her best to identify the symptoms of what Shisu has caught. Her eyes widen as she looks at the brunette coming to terms to what it is that she is trying to treat. "GUTS!", she yells looking back at him "GET OUT OF HERE!"

The young stood sheepish grabbing one of his sleeves while looking down towards the ground. "She's got the _plague_ …!" The other woman who had been replacing the wet towel that had been Shisu's forehead notes with a tone of despair and surprise. "IF YOU GET INFECTED, IT'LL BE THE END OF YOU TOO!" The keen older woman said.

Upon hearing that Guts was nearby Shisu looked up at him quickly, her face now bulging and wrought with warts filled with pus, swelling one side her face too much to see out of but leaking out where her other eye would be she cries out softly, "...Guts!", the young boy though alarmed makes no move to leave his mother.

"WHERE IS GAMBINO?" The stern older woman barks, "He won't come. He is in the middle of a siege." The younger woman says looking at her as she kneels down next to her with a basin of wet cloth and water. " _SHAMEFUL!_ YOU'D THINK A MAN WOULD BE WITH HIS WOMAN IN HER _DYING MOMENTS_ …!" The older woman yells out frustrated with Gambino. While Guts makes his way to his mother. "Okay… Let's stuff something in her mouth... !"

"Guts…" Shisu weakly repeats as she reaches out towards the young boy. "HEY, what're you doing here!?" The older woman says in surprise as Guts pushed past her slightly sweating as he looks at his mother's hand realizing the depth of the situation. "Guts," his mother weakly calls out, and he can't help but notice that she doesn't look the same anymore no, she looked wrong. Even as he reached out with his shaking hand not quite understanding still what was happening.

No, he knew now. Reaching out now with both of his hand he clasped his mother's outstretched hand. "Guts," his mother said if desperation and love, fear and so many other emotions Guts couldn't identify. Then she grew still, but she kept her eyes trained on him as if to say, "I'm still here.", Guts couldn't tell you if she had been like that for a mere moment or hours but it seemed like an eternity that passed all too soon.

 **Three years later**

A stone bunker, lay under siege. It was one of the last of it's kind as trick weapons became the norm. Weapons that had two or sometimes three forms that they could quickly and inexpensively shift into. With the introduction of siege weapons being able to function as a ram and a cannon, forts such as these found themselves disappearing by the dozen. Trick weapons had sprung up in a city that was rather advanced but had fallen due to a beast plague nearly a 200 years back. A group of hunters or at least that is what they called themselves started selling weapons and designs and had shown smiths how to make such weapons. Only recently had they started selling such weapons. Their reason surely must've been to hop onto the bandwagon known as war which had been raging for the last 80 years.

With men adorned in armor not too dissimilar to that of a knight's but far too un-coordinated to be a military what could only be a troupe of mercenaries, stormed towards the desperation of men that could only see profit and death in their futures. Among them towards the front line is a tall blond man with strong features, adorned in black armor that covers his torso and his upper shoulders with spikes running along them. Half of his back was covered with a short cape the color of dried blood. Covering his arms are muted silver gauntlets that go halfway up his forearms. Currently he was with Guts who was 6 six years old now, wearing a chain mail shirt that secured to his torso with a leather belt along with a pair of tan pants and pair of brown boots.

"Yo Guts," Gambino called, "Pass me a new magazine for this riflespear." With little delay in his actions showing that this wasn't the first time he had to do this Guts produces the magazine. Snatching it from Guts, Gambino loads the rifle with haste, and brings it to bear just in time to shred through a cavalryman who goes flying off of his horse. Which startles Guts, seeing up and close how much damage was done to the man in armor, the round had blown apart the armor and everything standing in its way which happened to be the man himself and the other end of his armor, Guts could make out what was probably the lungs of the man which been fluttering uselessly then the worst happens. The body lands on Guts and his face is seeing through the hole that used to be the man as the man's own guts slide onto Guts' face.

Transforming the rifle back into a long spear, Gambino pushes the body off of Guts, a look of amusement clear in his eyes. Over what Guts, would never guess but he meets his father's gaze. "Don't just stand there! You trying to get me killed?!" Gambino questions as he smacks Guts with the flat of the blade making his mouth from the damage done to his gums and biting his tongue. The amusement is now gone from Gambino's eyes, "Goddamnit! Who the hell do you thinks feeds your useless ass?! It sure as hell isn't you! If I die you won't even be a corpse on the side of the road, you'll be grimm chow!"

Guts' face is facing toward the ground as he wipes his and the Cavalryman's blood from his face. He tilts his face to make eye contact with Gambino to assure him that he understands. Gambino now stares at him in a condescending manner, "What're you looking at, boy?," Turning back to the rest of the battle which had progressed ahead without him Gambino barks out, "IF YOU GOT A PROBLEM I'LL THROW YOU TO THE BEOWOLVES RIGHT NOW! RIGHT HERE ON THIS VERY BATTLEFIELD!"

Marching back to the battlefield Gambino looks back halfway to Guts, "Feh," he spits, "That bitch Shisu sure picked a pesky little bastard…", then he left, leaving Guts to pick out a baby tooth that had gotten dislodged from the smack earlier.

 **7 months after the raid**

In a camp nearby a ranch surrounded by on all sides by the woods, Guts trains with Gambino. The sounds of swords clashing and feet shuffling are common sounds. So too are the sounds of cheer and merriment of the other mercenaries as they watched, the father-son duo. "Alright Guts," Gambino encouraged as Guts appeared to have his sword pinned to the ground. Attempting to capitalize on the opening Guts rides his blade on his opponents keeping it in check, dashing at him with a follow up slash. This isn't to be however as Gambino simply steps back as soon Guts' sword is no longer pushing his out the way and moves his blade to block Guts' from getting to his face. "Come on! Come on! Is that all you got?", Gambino haughtily taunts.

Taking a half step back Guts' charges in with a blow coming from the opposite side that Gambino sides steps with ease. Then in flash Gambino's knee is launched in Guts' stomach sending the boy flying back a few meters where he bounces on his back before rolling over onto his stomach. Clutching with one hand Guts moves to stand by up, but the pain is too great and he only makes it to his knees. At least he was still holding his blade, "C'mon, we're not dancing here!" Gambino berates the boy.

Seeing that the boy was still struggling to stand, a long raven haired mercenary called out to Gambino, "Gambino, you're going _too far_ , you can't expect a Six year old kid to be able to learn everything about sword fighting in such short time." Gambino wouldn't hear any of it, draping his blade over his shoulder Gambino states, "He can't expect to keep on eating free meals forever! We're mercenaries after all, I'm just teaching the boy how to earn his own daily bread." Gambino says with a self-assured grin on his face.

"That's fine," the mercenary says slighting cowed at Gambino's logic, "but Guts why don't you use a sword, more your size?"

"NO!", Guts snaps and in burst of anger pushes himself back to his feet, blade heaved over his shoulder but it pushes him off balance from the speed he stood at. "Oh, you're pretty stubborn aren't ya!", the dark haired mercenary says.

"We don't keep children's weapons around here." Gambino states as Guts rushes in at him they clash blades once more. Strikes blurring to be almost too fast for Guts to see but he doesn't stop swinging his blade and maneuvering it to block the attacks he could see. All around him he could hear encouragement coming from all mercenaries that had decided to watch the fight. Phrases like, 'use your hips' and 'dodge' were some of the more common ones. However in a flash Gambinos blade seem to become 4 in an instant, one moving his blade out of the way while the other three scored cuts on him two on his right arm and one on his right cheek. The pain nearly paralyzed him, but Guts wasn't done yet! With a speed previously unseen from the boy Guts' flung himself at Gambino and landed a glancing cut on his cheek.

For the first time that Guts could recall Gambino looked truly angry at him. The look of his strained jaw and the fury growing within his eyes. "You…", his father ominously stated… "YOU RUNT!" Faster than Guts could even comprehend he was hitting the ground and there was an intense pain crawling across his face. It took all of Guts remaining strength to catch himself before his face hit the ground. If anyone else was saying anything Guts couldn't catch it as he was still trying to figure out if he should be proud that he hit his father or not.

It wasn't too long however before the pain overwhelmed the young boy he passed out.

It was hot, too hot his face, it was way too hot as if someone decided to place an ember on his face. Guts awoke to the sensation of intense heat and blood clogging his nose and making his head feel heavy, far heavier than it had any right feeling. He had so much blood clogged in his throat and mouth that he was lucky he didn't choke to death.

After getting his breathing under control Guts realized that people where whispering outside of his tent. Though they weren't all the quiet, and they had no real reason to be, they must've suspected he'd be out cold at least till morning. "How long does he plan to keep the kid anyway?"

"Did you hear… Where the kid came from?"

"Yeah, I hear he was born from a corpse."

Tilting his head to face to the entrance of the tent the injured boy listened with rapt attention to the conversation unfolding in front of him. "For people in our line of work where putting our lives at risk is pretty much the job description…", one the mercs trailed off.

"He's a pretty much a _death_ sentence waitin' to happen, nothing but a bad omen." The other one finished. "Hell I'm willing to bet half of our next pay day that he's the reason Shisu died of the plague…"

Guts silently recoiled at the accusation, and as if on auto pilot to find some sort of comfort in something, Guts reaches for his sword, through all the bumps and bruises it had been a constant in his life.

 **The following morning**

At the crack of dawn Guts could be seen by a tributary with a bucket and his blade. Running through the various forms that gambino had taught him. "147…. 148….149….150. Ghh", with a pant of exhaustion Guts plops onto a nearby log partially stabbing his blade into the ground and swipes the sweat from his face.

'When I'm swinging this sword I don't have to think about anything', he thought as he plunged the blade deeper into the ground. His hands were a little raw from swinging his blade around so much though.

"You sure are taking a long time to draw water!" Up on the hill stood Gambino with his hand on his hip and poker face equipped.

"Gambino…!" Guts says in surprise, caught off guard that Gambino actually came to check up on him as well as unsure what to say in response.

"Hmph," the man grunts out, upon seeing that Guts has his sword nearby. He then chucks a shell shaped container at the young boy. "Here," as the boy catches it perplexed Gambino explains. "Its medicine," the man turns so only half his face is pointed at Guts, "Rub it on your wounds."

The only thing Guts can let out is a confused "eh?" as Gambino turns to walk away.

"G-Gambino!", the lad calls out with a sense of urgency, catching the older man's attention in turn, giving Guts a side long stare. "...Thank you.", the swordsman in training says.

Turning away sharply and marching away Gambino barked one final thing at the young boy, "Hurry up and get the food ready!" With that Guts was left to treat his wounds with the medicine he had been given.

 **Three years later**

Guts found himself in the midst of combat against 2 knights in full plate armor. They were ruthless, and the young boy had been almost entirely on the defensive despite initiating combat. That didn't mean that they were invincible, no that just meant that Guts would have to swing his blade harder to smash through their defense.

With a battle cry that originated deep from within, Guts dragged his blade across the dry dirt of the battlefield that he and the others were currently on. Kicking up a smoke screen that covered the three, Guts went quiet and dashed to the left attempting to take the first knight that he engaged. He was wielding a blade that seemed to serve little more purpose to intimidate someone rather than kill them. His mistake, special decals, offer no tactical advantage whatsoever, and looking cool would do nothing more than attract the wrong type of attention.

Widening his eyes despite the sand, Guts feinted his blade so it appeared that he would slam it down on his foes shoulder. Falling for the bait, the knight raises his blade to catch it and redirect the attack to the side. Then moving swiftly Guts redirected the deflected blow so it slammed into the armpit of the knight and ruptured the artery and sheared through half of the knight's arm.

Guts turned to his next opponent before he even hit the ground, evidently this was the right move as the knight came with fury that hadn't been present earlier. There blades commit to a deadly dance of reflected light and screaming steel. The blades screaming as they crashed looking gap in each others defense. Soon enough however the two fighters decided to try to end this offense with a decisive stroke that would tell who the winner would be.

Aiming for a powerstrike the knight knew that Guts couldn't have the strength to match him if he struck from the top. Luckily Guts knew this as well since Gambino had shown him that trying to match a grown man in strength would only happen at his age if he could reinforce himself. So Guts angles his blade have the knights deflect off of his, and with forceful bump to the knights moving blade it was sent careening to the side too far to be any use to the knight. Even more so since Guts' sword had raced into a thrust that found itself in the throat of the ironclad man.

Now the young lad found himself staring into the eyes of the man he just beaten, they looked foggy, yet inhumanly sharp, as if he were trying to convey his rage even as he lay there dying with his throat cleaved open. The eyes then seemed to twitch upwards for the briefest of moments before gravity came down and with it the deceased man whose throat ripped open as the man fell to Guts' side.

Catching his breath from the intense moment Guts been struck in the back. Whatever it was, it was blunt and it hit hard, really hard. The young boy had been thrown into the ground, and he rolled quickly onto his side to catch his bearings, and over head was large man, larger than Gambino. It seemed like the giant was coming in for a follow up smash to end the boy, but before he could so much as even lift his flail his head rolled off of his shoulders. Blood flies into the air as the body stands for a good second or two before keeling over, and when it did, Gambino was in his sight.

"Gambino!", the boy called out, but the man seemed care rather little for the plight of the boy. Walking away to carry on the battle, but he did call over his shoulder, "This isn't sword practice where you stop after winning once or twice, you need to keep going or you will get yourself killed.", stepping through a breached door, the man barks that there is more work to be done.

Guts, secures his helmet which had fallen at some point during the conflict and charges.

 **3 days after the Castle Siege**

Guts had just finished giving Gambino the money he owed him for and had just received his cut. He even was told to keep up the good work, after practicing with his blade for the day to stay sharp, Guts went off to his tent.

It was almost midnight, and the settings where all too reminiscent of when his mother had died. He couldn't stop shaking, even though he knew what had happened to her wouldn't happen to him, he just couldn't stop. It seemed like the chill in the air was starting become clammy and humid, giving the young boy a sheen of sweat.

The tension in the air was palpable although it hadn't been unbearable it boiled over as the entrance of his tent opened up. It was man, a large milk chocolate coloured man. He was bald and had armes the size of the young boys chest.

Guts only knew one man with this specific build and his name was-"Donovan?", the man in question had a sinister look on his face, as though he had been told he can go as crazy as he wants to on something and nothing would happen. It was self assured in a way that put Guts on edge as though- Suddenly the large man charged and Guts reached for his sword and managed to draw and slash it in quick motion. But it did nothing to the large man who faintly glowed orange for a moment as he wrenched the blade from Guts hand and back handed him. Then pinning him down and gagging him with one of the sheets he had laying around his pallet.

"Quit struggling, brat. I ain't here to eat ya," the stout man says as he presses Guts into the ground. "C'mon… _relax_ and it'll be over soon enough," with a throaty chuckle the man continues, "Happens _all_ the time in armies."

Guts was a fighter though, he didn't care what they did all the time in the army, Guts wasn't going to sit around and let him get molested. Snapping from beneath giant of a man's hand that made a dull thump as it impacted the ground, Guts smashed his elbow into Donovan's large nose. It did little more amuse him, Guts wasn't finished, aiming the man's blatter the raven haired youth smashed his foot into his bladder, if the attack hit him hard enough he would be forced to keel over… but attack the did nothing. Still not ready to give up the youth dives for his sword, this time Donovan doesn't watch him in amusement.

In a blur of motion that Guts can only track he finds himself sweeped by one the man's large hands. "Enough of your _wrigglin'_! I paid _Gambino_ good money!"

This was a betrayal, there was no that Fa-Gambino would allow Donovan to do this. He may have not liked him too much but he told him to keep up the good work. Gambino would never allow Donovan to do this, not ever, besides he was a boy there was no way that, that, _**this**_ ever happened in any army and up until now this was the first had even heard of this happening in this army. There was no way. No way. Impossible. Incon- Incon-something but he _**knew**_ that this wouldn't stand.

So as he stared at the bald vacuan that held him by the throat the first thing he could say was, "uh?"

Thrown into the ground via chokeslam, his mind seemed to become empty. "I bought you for the night. Paid Gambino, 3 silver coins." The large man stated, Guts seemed to only just realize that his gag had been redone.

"Gambino _sold_ yer ass out!" Donovan laughed out.

' _ **No!**_ That had to be a lie, it has to be. There… Couldn't be…'

The following morning Gambino didn't seem to know what Guts was talking about when he confronted him about last night. Which amounted to what all kids do when confronted with a uncomfortable situation like that, prod on a surface level with vague questions that may or may not be understood. Afterwards Guts ended up destroying some training dummies to vent his rage and frustration out.

Although this did precious little to sate his rage he overheard some of the older mercenaries saying that they would launching another attack. This, would be perfect for Guts, after all no one would miss Donovan, and this was war: people die and so will Donovan.

 **The following week**

They had the enemy on the back foot, striking fear into the hearts of those who thought it'd be a good idea to recreate their ranks. Obviously they were never going to allow something like that to happen while they were on the employ.

They were swift, and they were unexpected, Guts himself although was young struck as though he were thunder incarnate cutting a fair path for someone his age. However Guts was not fighting on the battlefield as he could, no he was keeping an eye out for his prey: Donovan.

The large man had crossed Gambino, and honestly pissed him off more than anything ever had beforehand. The large man was making this path for revenge rather easy as he had broken off from the rest of the group to go chase down some people who decided that they wanted to run rather than fight. Slipping away from the rest the mercenaries was easy for Guts too since all he had to do was take the heads of several of the opposing knights.

Chasing them down the beaten path Guts had readied an old rifle spear, he just needed to wait for his cue as well. Releasing the air from his lungs Guts lined up his shot as the man finish executing the deserters. The man started chuckling at how easily they just died before him, one the knights having a head split open similarly to a coconut. Another missing his arm and many more in various states of desecration

Without any delay the rifle, fired and the bullets shredded through bald man's skin barely even pausing they tore through his armor and aura.

"Gah-uh-!"

In a bit of disbelief he remained sitting on his horse, slowly and rigidly rotating to get a better look at the person who had shot him.

"Guts! You little-!", whatever he was going to say was cut off as Guts released another shot into the leg of the man, blowing it off, making him fall off his horse making him let out a scream of pain from the sudden amputation, clutching at it. All the while Guts gets off horse and draws his blade, and levels it to his throat as he arrives by his side but the man pays little attention to it he is holding his leg. The raven haired boy won't have any of it, digging his foot into the chest of the man making him clutch at Guts' foot instead to trying remove it.

"Say it…", the boy announces with a surprisingly dark tone for one who has yet to reach puberty, but he gets no response, so he stomps down even harder, barking, "SAY IT _AGAIN!_ _WHO SOLD ME OUT! SAY IT, DAMN IT!"_ , between choking on his own blood and trying to answer the kid who he thought might just spare him because he is still just that, the vacuan did his best to answer all things considered.

"Gam-", was all he was able to choke out before Guts slammed his blade through his throat, and with a roar, ripped it out the side of his throat leaving it halfway attached.

The lad stood there for a moment before he crashed backwards into a tree to catch his breath. He knew that he had to get back to the battle soon, but this had taken a lot out of him maybe not physically; but mentally this had been tiring. But it would never happen again, not if he could help it.

In the distance he could hear the sky screaming with the sounds of gunshots and cannons being fired, and he knew if he stuck around much longer Gambino would likely find out. He couldn't be seen as a coward after he had been told to keep up the good work, shoving his exhaustion down, Guts mounts his horse and rides back towards the battle.

By the time Guts reaches the main battlefield again he sees Gambino mounting a final push to take the strong hold that the retreating knights fled into. However, almost as soon as he sees it the image of Gambino is destroyed as dirt, rock, blood, limbs and guts go flying to the air. In the next seconds, though everything seems to be moving in slow motion. Not because what is happening is particularly frightening as the lad had been raised into this, but merely because of who is on the floor.

It was Gambino, in a fetal position facing covered in dirt, that in itself wasn't the part that was wrong with this image, no, what was wrong was Gambino was missing a leg. That shouldn't have happened, Gambino knew better than to not have his aura up on a battlefield. After all he was the was who taught him that.

Hearing someone cry out Gambino's name in the distance Guts finds himself rushing up to Gambino and placing him over his shoulders. Then he ran away from the fight, to get him safe, to keep him safe. In the distance he could still hear the cannon fire but he didn't stop for it.

The lad didn't know how long he had ran, but by the next thing he knew he was sitting next to Gambino as the doctor finished wrapping him up. Besides missing his leg the man had various deep gouges running along the rest of his body the only thing that seemed to be spared was his face.

"He lost a lot of blood, but I managed to save him." The doctor stated, as he wiped the blood off of his hands.

In the room besides Guts and the doctor were two other mercenaries, Guts never learned their names but the boy hardly seemed to notice them.

"C'mon, the man managed to survive a hell like that last battle all the time. There ain't no way he's gonna die that easily.", one of them stated.

"Yeah, but with a leg like that, he'd never be able to fight again. I mean unless that company that makes trick weapons got somethin' for this.", the other replied.

As the three older men left the room talking about who they'd need to lead the group now that Gambino was down for the count, Guts made his way by Gambino's side and pulled up a stool.

 **Don't worry as soon as we get passed the child arc and into Guts' teens this won't be so copy paste.**


	2. Chapter 2

_**And thus after a long wait, I wrote this. The next chapter will add context to this world and information just to make this easier to keep pace with.  
**_

* * *

It had been two years since Gambino had lost his leg. Two years since Guts had stepped up in order to take care of his old man that had looked out for him and taught him the basics of what it meant to be a mercenary. Guts while he hadn't become famous or anything as warriors without aura tend to not survive past the age of 15. Still it was one less tool that Guts had his disposal, granted it could be useful but it was still just that: a tool. It didn't save the enemy General wearing armor that was gold in color.

The mercenaries arrived back at camp in the evening, and Guts had just collected the bounty for the kills he had racked in. There would be plenty of money that Gambino would be happy to have.

Arriving o what had been dubbed the hill of Gambino the big bad, the raven haired adolescent could see that Gambino was playing with his dog as he sat on a wooden chair. Next to him sat a crate that had his crutch leaning on it and his old sword on top of it. "Good boy.", the crippled man said as the dog propped itself onto the chair that amputee was perched on.

The young raven haired warrior had run up to the to man he announced that he killed the general of the opposing army that they fought along with several other lieutenants and just collected their bounties.

However if the older man cared he didn't show it as he continued to play with the dog. For awhile Guts had stood there waiting for him to respond, it didn't have be much but anything over the silence as it started to drag on. The young swordsman was about to repeat himself when the older man finally said something.

"This ought to be able to buy you all the women and wine you could possibly want… " Gambino started, "meat?"

"Huh?", Guts eloquently answered. The statement obviously confused Guts, he could get Gambino wanting women and wine, but if he wanted meat couldn't he just go grab some dinner?

"You know, meat, for the dog.", the older man stated as if he was talking to a particularly stupid child. The child in question wasn't stupid, just confused on why he didn't already have meat for the dog, nor why he'd tell Guts to actually spend their money on something that Gambino hadn't even had for a month. Most importantly, he was waiting for Gambino's judgement and hopefully with it, his approval.

"...Oh."

"What's wrong? Hurry up and go get it.", then Gambino struck, "HURRY AND GET IT!" crashing his crutch into Guts' face sending him down the hill. The young boy catches himself before he could too far back down the hill, and catches the eyes of the others around him, averting his gaze from.

Casting his eyes towards the ground, the lad walks towards the butcher to retrieve meat for the dog. After retrieving the dog some meat, Guts had been caught up in his rage, cutting away at the straw dummies that were littered around the training fields nearby. He hacked and slashed and stabbed, running through all the stances and forms he could recall as he tried to work out his frustration. The raven haired boy looked something like a maddened dog as he relentlessly attacked, only slowing down when he realized that it was starting to rain.

'Maybe I shouldn't think too hard on all of this, it'll probably be for the best if I just go to bed now. After all I can earn tons of money tomorrow if I kill a lot of people.', the now tired boy thought as he dragged himself away from the field and toward his bed.

By the time the boy had discarded his armor and placed himself underneath the sheets, the rain had intensified, coming down thunderously, with the shock waves of said phenomenon echoing through the air above. It was to this white noise that the young lad had drifted off to sleep, at least for time.

The crack of thunder that came from above had caused him to roll off his bed, and not a moment too soon as the streak of silver that was a tell of a sword swing descended upon him and the young boy kneeled to the floor where his sword was waiting seemingly calling for him. Picking the blade off the ground, the lad had wasted no haste it attacking his would be assassin.

Lightning flashes once more, and he sees the face of his father staring back at him, the blade had been deflected off to the side. That was weird, why would Gambino be up at this hour to train Guts? Normally he wouldn't do that until the morning.

They went through a dance of blades that seemed to flow naturally from each other, knowing one another's tells after years of training together. Guts thought that this was the best dream he had for a while, even though his father's expression was a little bit scary, he thought it was so cool that he was finally able to keep up with him like this.

As their spar waged on it seemed to migrate outside, and although Guts knew that this was a dream the cold from the rain felt real enough. Guts found it so cool that even though Gambino was missing a leg the older mercenary was still far too swift for someone missing a leg.

He wanted to look down for a moment to check to see if his opponent had two legs, but he knew that taking his eyes of his opponent's torso would only allow them the upper hand. Dream or not he wouldn't allow that.

Then there was the odd fact that older man's mouth was moving around so much, if he was talking so much then that meant Guts could start moving faster. After all even while dreaming Gambino would only try to push him to be better, most times without fail lest he acquire a new bruise or sprain

The young mercenary would show him this new technique he was working on, one that he thought of when he thought that he could strike down a hummingbird. Though it still in development, but since it was dream doing this shouldn't be much of an issue.

So the young boy moves back for a moment and launches his attack, one blade becomes two though one blade is moving faster than the other it could be argued that the two blade clearly existed at one point in time. Although youth had tried to go for three since it was a dream it seemed like two strikes will be all that he can land. He decided that this time wanted to try for a pincer attack around the neck

The first blow smashed into Gambino's, blade, cracking it, while the other slower attack came in and met some resistance from the blade and smashed through it and sending shards flying into the figment's left eye. The strike still continued however striking true on the older man's neck, but his aura protected him, so instead of being decapitated the man been sent flying into a nearby armory.

The older man dug himself out and the child could see that he had a prosthetic attached to his amputated leg. So that answered one thing he was wondering about, in his arms the young boy could see that he had another blade in hand, being a simple silver blade with a curved guard.

It was as though something had changed within Gambino, as his face began to shift into something more demonic and angry. It sent shivers down his spine, but he wouldn't run, after all this was all a dream, and dreams can't kill you. The blond slashed at the air, and the force was enough to displace the air and turn it into an attack. It was too fast for him to dodge, he knew that since he couldn't do whatever he pleased in this dream.

But blocking, he could do that. The blast of compressed air sent few meters back until he fell against Gambino's hill, and aforementioned man was on top of him swinging his blade already. With a hasty parry the raven haired youth is able to deflect the blow and create an opportunity to roll to the side. Though it's for naught as Gambino's prosthetic smashes into his side right below his ribs, killing his momentum and throwing off his balance.

Though the feeling of pain is a bit surprising since most dreams only give phantom pains the young lad supposed it was completely possible to feel pain, even if was both sharp and faded at the same time.

Although, since this was a dream that also meant that he could go all out with ever needing to worry, so once more, one blade become two as the lad jumps back to older mercenary. Both attacks are dodged the blond simply moves perpendicular to the both and up the hill.

The older man is now intent to drive him back down using the high ground he gained by intended to remove the boys head with a slash. Ducking underneath the attack the boy furiously slashes at the man's legs attempting to cut him down the size.

With movement only possible because the sheer older man easily evades as though the hand of destiny were guiding him. Guts decided that his next attack, would move faster than the others there would be two attacks from one stroke and they would not fail. Two attacks that ran parallel to the ground, it'd be impossible to dodge them, one at the neck the other at the knees, coming from opposing directions.

Yet like times before Gambino dodged out the way, his face resembling that of someone who just saw someone take a shit on his puppy. Then Guts heard Gambino's words for the first time since this dream started, "You're a real demon, you know that…". The older blond was still speaking but the rest of his words sounded like rain pelting off the side of a building.

Although this singular line perked Guts' curiosity, he didn't want to dwell on it since was still a dream and he was fighting a literal uphill battle. They kept pushing, at each other's defense, more often than not it was the young boy coming out on top despite his older counterpart's experience.

Soon enough the two stood on top of the hill swords clashing in tandem with the thunder that bellowed it growls and roars above their heads. The rain slowly blocking out the feeling in their bodies, making it feel as though this were nothing more than a cold dream, a dream where warriors do what they do best, wage war.

With half lidded eyes Guts, stares into his father figure's eyes. They are absent, or perhaps shrunken so small they are invisible, it frightens the boy, as he sidesteps an slice that was aimed to split his head open. Then he pins the blade to the ground using his own, as he drags it along the length aiming to either take the man's hand or head. If an attack like that was all that was needed to take Gambino out, he wouldn't have lived as long as he had. With movement born to desperation and the will to survive Gambino backsteps to the left of Guts. This isn't left unseen as the boy's eyes track him still half lidded, as he redirects his attack to come down between the blond's legs.

Though the attack failed to hit anything fatal the old mercenary can't help but think that something is about to go wrong. Lightning crashes in the forest behind them somewhere. Then in those moments the old mercenary leader sees it: _it_ is a dark figure though it's eyes were half shut the look that they held. It was nothing but rage, too much rage to be human far too much, were it not for the fact that they glowed white and not red he'd have thought he was staring a Grimm in the face. Wait no, that is the only explanation, the boy that Shisu picked up underneath that tree all those years ago was a Grimm that took the shape of a human. Learning their ways so that way it could wipe them out from the face of existence. After all that boy _never_ unlocked his aura how else could he be so strong.

Gambino stumbles backward, but pulls himself to his feet quickly enough. By this point they're nearing the older man's tent, and the blond takes a chance and he flees as fast he can. For the young boy this is confusing but he looks around, a haze over his mind making it more muddied than had ever been, but his sword was in his hand. All around the hill the young boy can see the other mercenaries coming out, armed in their armor and swords drawn, but not rushing anywhere, as if curious to what was happening. It reminded Guts of the times where the mercenaries would sit around watching him and Gambino train when he was first starting out.

Though he can't help but wonder if they are going to be going on a raid soon, he wonders what a dream raid would look like. Would there be Grimm for knights and and knights as horses, he wonders with a small smile, as his head bobs toward the ground. He hears thunder bellow and crash as though it was both close and far away.

He looks towards the knights and they seem nervous about something but they seem unsure of themselves. They don't really matter the young boy decides as he looks back to where he last saw Gambino.

The aforementioned man is back to where he was, clad in armor that he hadn't worn in two years. The look on his face was one absolute derangement, as if his rage so great that he was going to explode from how much pent up anger he had in his system. In this situation it was funny, far too funny not to laugh at stupid Gambino's face looked. It was this that tipped him over the edge launching himself at Guts who staggers to the side getting him out of his range.

The two bring their swords to bear, and as they commence another dance Guts feels, many attacks starting to cut him and the cold water seep into them. Everything still feels weird but Guts is willing shove off to the side in favor of showing the angry warrior everything he has, in this battle even though it is a dream Guts wants to dream of earning his respect. The lightning and thunder sound off again, and this time it is far closer, and shakes Guts a little bit.

The dance of blades gets swifter, and yet even more swift as though there is no upper limit to how fast they can go. Of course Guts knows that outside of a dream that an aura user will always speed blitz someone without it. Then something refutes this being a dream, a cut is landed on his shoulder. It comes rushing at him, almost overwhelming his senses, he was truly in a fight right now. Underneath this rain, that instead of numbing his wounds and feeling as though his nerves were half on he realizes what is happening. "GAMBINO, WAIT!", boy yells.

"SHUT YOUR DIRTY Grimm MOUTH! YOU KILLED SHISU! I SHOULD'VE COMPLETELY SOLD YOUR ASS TO DONOVAN! YOU'VE RUINED EVERYTHING, AND NOW YOU WANT ME WAIT!", the enraged man cried to the storming world and camp of mercenaries who were watching this pan out. Then with a demented roar the armored, charged the young swordsman. " _ **DIE**_ YOU Grimm BASTARD!"

When Gambino swung his although it could've have come from multiple directions at nearly the same time the attack would take far too long to land. Such an attack, while versatile would never be as fast as attack that could land within an instant, at least in the eyes of the younger fighter. The attack should've landed, however a hasty block prevented it from ending Guts' life, sending him tumbling backwards.

Coming to a halt the young boy moves with desperation to get back into a combat guard, waiting for an attack. "What did I ever do to you boy? What did I do to deserve a Grimm for a child?! HUH?! HUH! YOU'VE BEEN NOTHING BUT A CURSE SINCE WE'VE PICKED YOU UP! SO MANY PEOPLE HAVE DIED JUST FROM US PICKING YOU UP! MY SWEET SHISU IS GONE NOW BECAUSE YOU, DAMN IT!", the distressed man continued to make his case.

These words were not without consequence on the young boy, as each revelation would slam home in his mind as an absolute truth. Making step back shaking his head as he tried to refute these things in his mind, but he honestly couldn't even wrap his head around the fact that Gambino sold him out that night. His back soon came into contact with a weapon rack where several rifle spears were on standby for use.

"You know what! NO more yelling! I am just going to kill you so we can be rid you and your curse."

In the following moments though something that could be considered a miracle happened.

Gambino launched himself through the air and descended towards the child.

Guts panicked and threw his leg back, hitting one of the rifles knocking it forward as he rolled to the side.

The older mercenary landed on the tip of the spear cutting his neck slightly but not enough to bleed out.

Following that lightning struck him cooking him alive inside of his armor nearly instantly, while cause the rifle beneath to discharge as it also exploded lodging pieces of the warped barrel through his neck.

Lastly the raven haired child was sent flying backwards from the lightning crashing into the ground.

The smell of Ozone was prevalent and the silence save for the rain was telling. For there had been no doubts about it; Gambino was dead. For a moment the mercenaries did nothing more than just sit there, as Guts recovered and the fried man sizzled within his armor.

Then someone whispered quietly in disbelieve and the words were almost lost to the rain; "That boy really is as cursed as Grimm…", who whispered it is unimportant but soon everyone had believed it as well. "I knew he was cursed when Frankie lost all his fingers trying to fight the general that he killed last week." "The coins I picked up a few months ago were all fools gold, remember how he was the only one to actually get gold that day?", Soon the entire band of mercenaries were rationalizing in to each other how the young boy could be nothing more than a cursed monster and a father killing Grimm.

Soon the young boy had climbed onto his knees after realizing that this was not a dream, and Gambino had in fact been killed: his head was only attached to his neck by a few muscles. He craned his neck to see that everyone had been getting agitated while he tried to recuperate, he knew that his options were limited.

"WAIT! I DIDN'T MEAN TO KILL HIM-" "SHUT YOUR MOUTH, YOU PLAGGIAN RAT! YOUR CURSES WON'T KILL US ANYMORE! NOT IF WE KILL YOU FIRST!", a plump redheaded mercenary grunted out as charged the hill with his pike.

It was time to run, there was no way he'd be able to take more than 300 mercenaries in a fight, fair or otherwise. So with adrenaline pumping the somewhat wounded boy ran for the stables.

However were it so easy to get there he would've just fought off the mercenaries until they learned their lessons. So with that being said the boy parried and dodged his way to survival, throwing mud and shit at those in front of him, slowing down for nothing. Even then getting gave him plenty of licks that would ache in the morning if he survived tonight, from the bottoms of feet to his scalp, laid some type of cut, bruise or abrasion.

Guts was nothing if not stubborn and he made it to the horses, even got to ride off with it too. His former comrades were determined to see him dead,and gave chase, shooting his horse in the ass. With it bucking the way it was Guts knew it wouldn't be long before he was launched off of it. Though oddly enough that didn't happen as the pair ran to a dead end cliff, and Guts knew he was going to die. If not from the mercenaries than from the fall as it was nearly a 200 meter drop, more than enough to kill a man without aura, let alone a child.

The other mercenaries drew close and the horse kicked up onto two legs without any commands from the young rider who could only hold on for dear life hoping not to get killed by it bucking him off the cliff. Though he his worry was unfounded as the mercenaries just blasted the poor horse off the mountain, with their rifles at the ready.

Falling to what could only be his doom the young boy thought to himself. "From the start of my life, I walked with death. A sword following my path as true as a shadow, after a master. So long as I have my sword, I can fight… survive, I haven't lost my sword, so I can keep going now." Fixing the storm clouds with a determined, Guts could do no more as he slammed into the ground and blacked out.

When he came to the young boy noted that the storm had passed and the broken moon could be seen, and to his left he could he the sound of crunching, but didn't think on it around him he could feel water, so he was probably in a puddle, and all around him were large rocks that obscured his vision of the surroundings. Possibly meaning that there was even more rocks leading into the cliff. Though that only left one path for him to go really.

Even though he still had his sword in hand, the boy didn't know where he was going to go. Or what he was even going to do to find his way. It had been sometime and young noted that even though many of the wounds he once had were gone somehow, his larger ones had still haven't started to heal.

Using his sword as crutch the boy pushes himself onto his feet, his head craning to where the crunching noise was happening. He saw a pack of wolves dragging away his dead horse, and for some reason he couldn't help but grin at the sight, it would take them time to tear into the beast. Though he didn't stop to watch, as he noticed something dark darting across the rocks, and it was fast.

Pulling himself into a combat position, the boy did not have to wait long as the black blurs soon made themselves known crawling over the rocks in such a way that hinted at them not being a natural entity of the world, darkness given form. A true Grimm, while Guts had trained techniques suited for fighting beasts such as these he knew he would have some kind of trouble with them.

Vaguely lupine in shape but far too robust and human like in a way to be called a dog. They were known as, "Beowolves." The boy observed with a frown. He didn't have any illusions that he would win this fight even a crowded area where he could basically funnel them. But he knew he had to try, and this was a fight even though he knew he would die he would treat it as such.

Guts ran to meet the first one in a charge that bowled him and the first Beowolf to ground with him on top surprisingly, his blade buried all the way through it extinguishing it's life. He pulls himself off of it with a little bit of difficulty with his exhaustion still showing from his last battle.

Ripping his blade out of his now dead foe, the arc had cut halfway into the neck of the next one, taking it out too with a rather clean cut, if completely accidental. Balancing himself again as he staggered away from his freshest kill the young boy, begins to make his way to the next one tripping over as the puddle removes what little traction the boy had on the floor.

It was like watching a newly born deer first getting used to standing, floor slick with after birth and the underdeveloped hooves trying to find a purchase on the earth below. Only it was as if this same deer had antlers that would gore and bisect whatever was around it.

For what seemed like in eternity the swordsman known as Guts, stumbled around in his Grimm version of his namesake as his blade removed the limbs and heads of dark beasts around him. Whether the beasts wizened up or Guts had defeated them all would remain unknown to the young boy as he fought until nothing else attacked him. Riddled in shallow cuts and bruises from the falls he had taken from the beasts and the environment around him, the raven haired swordsman falls onto his back. His gaze drawn to the moon far above, shattered, but it was hardly noticeable as unbroken face of the moon stared back at him.

For a second the boy feels as if he recognizes something, but it disappears in an instant.

Then for a time he stares, and stares, and dreams of staring at it with Gambino at his side. He wants to ask why, to fallen leader, but the words never make it past his throat before they die. As he drags his sight to the older man, he sees a smile, a smile that he knows could never exist on the face of his father, it's innocent and happy. Two things he knows that hardened mercenary would never allow himself to be around anyone, except the long dead Shisu. The time crawls forward and eventually the man stands up, and although the young boy wants to follow and see where he walks off to, he can't even move his gaze from the moon which had ensnared his attention once again.

When the raven haired child is sure that the blond is gone, he wonders what it means to truly have purpose in life. Up to this point his purpose had been to serve him, fight alongside him. That had been it, now he was alone, having killed Gambino, and burned his bridges with the mercenaries he grown up underneath.

What else was there that he could do in his life the boy had to wonder.


	3. Chapter 3

For as long as humans have walked on two feet, they had been partial to using tools. Tools to hunt animals and feed their young. Tools create garbs for when their hair was no longer adequate to warm them. Tools to sow seeds into earthen clearing to grow food for them, agriculture, or so it is called. Someday though, in no particular order in regards to the aforementioned use to tools before, they had been used to kill other humans. Whatever the reason, these tools were used to kill other humans, and it was decided that it feels wrong to just let them be called tools when the only purpose of these devices were to kill other humans.

So they were called weapon, and suddenly, humans had fangs that they had no qualms against using one another. They got bigger and stronger, to the point that even beings that went bump in the night would consider if attacking humans would be worth it. Eventually these weapons got to be absolutely cataclysmic, then they disappeared and the moon cracked like an egg the interstellar debris taking with it a majority of humans when it was pulled by the planet's gravity, and what came out from the crashing sites were beings that resembled humanity.

They proved to be ultimately not so different from humans as they did as all the human populations did when they met one another. They had sex and this minority grew. They never grew to become the majority, because after the weapons had disappeared beings as dark as night came, and they were there to stay. These beings killed and killed and killed, in the end all humanity and this race that resembled them could do was cower in fear in areas that it would naturally be difficult to get to them in.

However eventually they discovered a light, a light within all of them shown to them by man who truly believed that this was the only path. These two species, pushed back the dark with tools that discovered to be effective against the dark. Though it didn't happen all at once and there was many that didn't make it eventually humans and the by then self dubbed faunus had entrenched themselves in areas where survival while not easy was manageable.

Then one could say the spirit of adventure had been discovered, now that the need to fight just for the right to have a place to lay one's head had down for the night had been solved people had wondered what else was out there.

What they saw no one could be sure. Maybe they saw themselves in one another, maybe they saw demons, or opportunity. The fact remains, that soon after discovering one another, they wished to kill and subjugate one another. As if to prove that there could only be one light.

Once more tools meant to be wielded against their fellow man had employed to fang the faunus and men who wanted more. Then a faction, who wanted no part in this save for seeing the bloodshed arrived, and with them weapons the likes of which would plague the nights of those who had seen them employed.

Weapons, that came from an unknown city-state spread, spread by unknown beings who hunted in the darkness easier than any faunus could see in it. Blades that cut the Grimm apart, not with ease but the savage grace that can only be seen within a starving predator. They certainly looked the part, tall and lanky, even the more bulky of them followed this trend.

Unnaturally quick gaits, and even faster perceptions, they truly embodied what it meant to be a hunter. They sold their weapons, their fangs, and people used them rip and tear, with savagery reminiscent of Grimm and to a lesser degree; themselves the Hunters. Some of these groups called themselves Huntsmen or Huntress in respect for those who had wielded these weapons before them with proficiency near impossible to replicate.

With war these weapons became far more common and their use while savage before could be justified as a necessary precaution against Grimm, now as war waged, more savage weapons were employed. From swords to large to be even called greatswords, to arm mounted cannons that had more in common with those used on ships than what could be called a hand cannon.

No one knew what they stood to gain from all this bloodshed, but nonetheless it was a resource that was available to any who were willing to pay for these weapons.

Scene break

Three years later

Smoke,smoke so strong that choked the sky making the broken moon appear to die, as it killed the stars in the heavens above. If the night sky was black before then is was vantablack, so dark that nothing above could be seen.

Down below it was unnaturally bright, fire, burned everything, even itself as the multi colored fire fought itself for supremacy of one color. This conflagration, was a means for sky burial for those unfortunate to not escape the blaze.

In this site there was once a fledgling settlement that came from an offshoot of a dust mining brigade, due to there being an abundance of it in this area, upper management in this work settlement decided that it'd be the perfect location to set up a temporary town around because the amount of work would be plentiful.

Now though, nothing remained, as the Dust mine was ignited with Aura and the world burned as the almost magical energy forced its energy out in the most violent of ways.

In the distance a figure could be made out with a giant blade along their back, with armor silver in color though not reflecting too much light which was slightly surprising given the circumstances, beneath the armor was a white torn cape that glided across ground as if were apart of the shroud of a spectre though the rest of his clothing failed to really strike to much of an intimidating figure with white pants and brown leather boots and a battle damaged helmet attached to a string that was sewn into the cape. He could be seen walking away from the accident that claimed the town, to a man garbed in suntanned leather armor on a horse who could do no less but stare at the demon bleeding in front of him. Watching as his steady stride had bought him in front of the horse rider.

How could this be the young swordsman who looked as if he should still be learning to fight with his father? How could someone so young be capable of destroying an entire brigade of Dust miners with some of the most advanced tools know to man? Just what was he? Why was he the only one approaching him for pay?

"Hey," the demon began, his glowing eyes twitched, "Hey! Where is my money at old man, you told me that entire town was worth 40 gold pieces. I hope you aren't trying to swindle me. Because if-" "N-no! It's not like that! I swear! I just didn't expect you take the encampment so quick, anyways young d-swordsman, do you know where the rest of the mercenaries that you went in there with are?" As the sparsely armored man pulled a pouch of money from his side he couldn't help but notice that young demon looked annoyed.

"They didn't make it out of the Dust and metal refinery. They made a bad call when trying to escape, I made the right one it's that simple." Accepting the coin pouch the injured young man, turned to walk away from both the man who hired him, and the scene of destruction behind him.

"Wait! Young man!" The leather clad man calls out to the demon in question half his face illuminated by the fire in the distance. It created a sharp contrast as the face illuminated fire appeared to be a young man like any other with the expect of being rather angry. While the face still shrouded by the dark appeared to truly be a demon that was anger incarnate and would stop at nothing to rip it's prey apart. The man felt as if he would be next if wasn't careful with his words.

"Young man, you are a warrior. One that I can see clearly has no parallel. If we join forces there will be nothing that can stop-" A chuckle interrupts the man, it's not a loud chuckle, nor is it particularly mocking. It was just a chuckle that one might let out if they heard something that was kinda funny.

"Old man, stop while you're ahead. You are just in this for yourself, I would get nothing out of this deal at all." The young man lifts the small pouch that contained his pay and states, "Thank you for your patronage. Don't bother hiring me again though."

The teen then tucks the pouch away into his side pocket beneath his leather belt and walks away. The only thing remotely guiding his path being the road in front of him.

Scene break

Guts spent a long time wandering the roads in front of him, fighting packs of Grimm and occasionally Mercenaries and Bandits who thought that he'd be an easy target just because he was a teenager with a sword that appeared to be too long to use. Yet somehow he was still around and they were not.

However something odd seemed to be afoot, there had been no Grimm for some time. While it could be possible that they had chosen another traveller to follow it was rather unlikely because they'd always seek out him first when ever there was an option.

'Perhaps I might be reading into the situation too, much but if Grimm choose to attack me, who is just silently minding my own business as I wander past, over a group of wandering mercenaries who happen to be arguing over a corpse; it really makes me wonder what type of luck I have for them to choose me as the target.' The young man mused.

After that last job, the young man was looking for a new employer. He tried not to really get attached to any singular job set up as it would only make him stagnate, moving from job to job was ideal. 'That's right isn't there that encampment down in southern Vale looking to recruit warriors to go fight in the outskirts of Vale's territory?'

Though it may have not been the best idea to go offer his services down there since the forest fires down there were almost as legendary as the Mantle's blizzards freezing people completely solid during their summer storms.

In the end though, it was preferable to going into the sands of Vacuo. The less said about how nightmarish that would be for anyone wearing plate armor the better.

Scene Break

They had been watching this mercenary for sometime. He was good at what he did, killing and surviving impossible situations that is. They could use someone like that even if there was a limit to how much he could survive, it was no secret that this mercenary was made of sterner stuff than most.

All they had to do was just lure him in and give him a deal that he couldn't resist, it'd be easy given that there was some of their men ready to fight him just because they wanted more money and the last battle they had been in hadn't paid them all that much.

So with a wave a of a hand a small contingent of mercenaries had been released on this young warrior who went by Guts.

They stood no chance, as even without the use of aura the adolescent cleaved through their blades and then their horses. The toppling of the equestrians crushed the two riders before they could even recognize that they were truly under threat.

Those who had sat around watched as the adolescent didn't even bother to stick around before he wandered off again. White cape parted and dark armor had been briefly flashed to the world as the large blade found a home on his back.

It was then that he decided that he would own this mad dog. Perhaps it'd be impossible to truly tame him, but not to guide him toward his ambition. Their ambition.

So he allowed for his second in command to fight in his steed if only to see how mad this dog truly was. His second in command is a young woman who picked up from a small mountain village near the west of Sanus. She wore mens silver plate armor and pauldrons over a brown leather tunic with brown leather gloves that went up to her forearms. Her legs adorned with a cream pair of pants and riding boots that went up to her thighs.

The confrontation had been bizzare one his second in command was currently mounted on horse that had been bred for battle. One of the best he could afford with how much he had raised up. The horse had been spectacular as it had always been, dodging out the way of swings that surely would've caught a slower horse. The rider had been in perfect synchronization with the horse as well, but somehow, they were being pushed back.

That wasn't too say that they didn't know how to fight, but typically the advantage to for mounted cavalrymen vs being an infantry swordsmen is that a horse when it charges at it's opponent allows for rider to use the blade as if it's already moving quick. This type of attack was doubly effective in the hands of cavalrymen who was already swift in the handling of their blade.

So with this context it made him wonder just how mad this Guts truly was to be able to keep pace with a horse and rider at this pace. While he would like to see more from a distance he knew if he let this stay the way it was, his second in command would die. It would be troublesome to replace her.

So he quickly donned his armor and made sure his aura was ready to protect him.

Scene Break

'These guys really let a woman on the battlefield? Geez, it's not as if it matters to me all that much, but how could these guys let her have more skill than they do? Where is their pride? Oh wait, it got them killed, I should really stop focussing on them.' Guts thought to himself as ducked out of the way a blade meant to separate his head from his shoulders.

'THERE! She's open!' thrusting his blade into the woman she is given little choice in whether or not she wanted to stay on her horse as she was ripped off the saddle by the greatsword. Crashing into the ground she looks up to see what looked to be a demon getting ready to finish her off with a heavy overhead strike.

As the blade came down, it redirected itself into a sidewards slash lashing out to the caped swordsman's right. With inhuman grace the swipe was deflected upward and over Guts' new opponent, who took a strange resemblance to being a silver hawk.

Though there was no time for observations as the blade arced around and made to cut off his hands. Dancing to the side of the swipe Guts, stomps down of the ground and crouches with his blade perpendicular to his body as he begins to spin he moves the blade as if he were winding up for a large cut, and spins twice in rapid succession.

Both strikes fail to land as his opponent steps out of their range and steps to the side to dodge the follow up strike. Now his opponent moves in and pins the blade into the ground with a simple stomp along the flat and point his blade to Guts throat. "You killed two of my men today and you almost killed my second in command. What do you have to say for yourself."

"It's a sin to talk during battle." With those simple words, Guts coats his hands in aura and quickly slaps one hand on the inside his arm where his palm is facing, then takes his other hand and smacks the other side of the swordsman's hand sending it flying away silver armored figure.

Quickly placing his foot behind the hawk knights supporting leg he makes to trip the knight by sweeping his leg out an elbowing him, but the knight has none it as preternatural grace he brings his leg up and around the offending appendage and steps to the opposite side the blade he is standing on.

Guts pulls his blade out of the ground on the angle that the unknown knight had taken to standing on. Curiously the armored foe makes no move to reclaim his own blade from the ground.

Rushing in Guts makes to strike quick enough that his attacks leave two extra after images in his wake each of them moving to land an attack, two from each side one from the top. However the hawk knight is far more agile than the caped swordsman thought he could be as he darts between a gap in between the attacks that Guts was unaware someone with enough speed could exploit.

As the hawk knight darts past the bewildered swordsman he places a hand beneath his nose and pushes him forward while tripping him up, as Guts was falling to the ground he made to at least cut the bastard. However he could only manage one arm in the swipe, and he was punished for it, as the silver armored knight applied pressure to the base of his wrist with his thumb and coupled with the liberal use of aura, his hand opened up. His own blade was tossed to the side, his arm guided behind his back and another thumb was placed on the side of his elbow. Then he hit the ground, with a knee on his back.

"I can respect that, you think talking in battle is a sin. However, the battle is over now. How do you plan on paying me for my two dead men." The knight said in a sharp voice. "Your men, attacked me first, also you really don't seem to understand, in a fight, you let your actions speak for you…"

With more than careless use of aura the pinned swordsman reinforced his body as far as he could go at the moment leaving it in a dull purple shroud, then he pushed up to his knees. The knight trying to force him back to the ground to the best of his effort but ultimately it meant nothing as the teen found himself back on his feet even with the extra weight on him.

Realizing that he would need more than a good pin to take down this mad dog, the hawk night flipped off his back the moment said dog made to dart for his blade. Landing by his own blade he darted towards the caped figure with renewed speed that hadn't been showcased up to this point.

However it looked as if the show of defiance wasn't just a one time act the teen met him halfway his own blade in hand. Then their blades started flashing at each other, though they never found purchase on anything as the welder's made to annul the actions with acrobatics that seemed more at home in a dance than a battle to the death.

It mattered little as each knew that it'd only take one cut from a high speed rush like this to shear through their aura and likely their body in that same stroke. However it didn't matter as this is what it would cost to survive.

This dragged on this manner for twenty minutes with neither landing a blow until their reinforcement started to give way, they both seemed to reach this limit around the same time and judging from the look in the others eye, they both knew it.

Or at least it appeared that way, when Guts rushed in to take his opponent out, the figure stood there, with a sharp and dangerous look in his eye, as if he could already see victory in front of his eyes and all he needed to do was grab it.

'That look... _really pisses_ me off!' The angered teen rushes in his anger a light in his eyes and reinforcement covering him completely, then with everything he has he swings four times in rapid succession, the pressure from the air had been compressed enough to act as a blade, ripping treads into the ground, three of them were dodged and the last one clipped his foes side ripping into his armor and sides but ultimately doing nothing more than create a flesh wound.

Descending on the silver hawk, Guts makes for an overhead slash, however in an instant cuts open up all across his arms shallow and deep on the inside and outside of his arm and one decisive cut underneath his arm pit, causing arterial bleeding.

The hawk in no longer in front of him but behind him now, he can hear it. The pain from the cuts, almost knocks him out then and there, but he refuses to be knocked out by an attack like that. So he drives his blade into the ground and makes to lean on it.

"The fight is over you know," the hawk starts in an aloof voice "You lost." he states this simple fact as if he was saying the sky is blue. "You're going to die too, and you know that, with a wound like that and no aura left." This was also a fact, they both knew it as well.

"This is the price of swinging your blade without purpose. You cannot see the beauty of victory. This is why you lost." Guts wasn't willing to believe something like that was the reason why he truly lost. "Now though, your life belongs to me. I can choose to take it right now if I want to, or I could leave you to the Grimm. No, I don't want either of those things, no what I want right now is your blade, and I will have it."

The teenager knew that this was all true, even if he felt some resentment over being turned into a mere slave again he knew that at least in this case this was fair. He lost, and his life was forfeit.

"My name is Griffith and you will be my blade until I tell you to die."

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Casca, was a woman of the battlefield. Although she had some troubles getting into the metaphorical pool of water, known as war once she was in she took to it like a fish to water. Though she was far from being a force of nature of any kind, she'd had always seemed to pull through the fights they had gotten into without suffering any substantial loses. While the skirmish they had with that boy had damaged, her pride somewhat she still got out of that fight without really losing too much.

However, that didn't mean she didn't find her current situation degrading.

Right now, she was nursing the warrior who had bested her, back to health because Griffith saw it as something of a waste for someone like him to be killed. Had it not been for the fact that they had been stalking him for awhile to recruit him eventually she'd be wondering if this guy was worth it.

Yet somehow this entire situation felt even more degrading than it maybe really should have been. After wrapping the various wounds around the warrior who had bested her, she found that he had lost too much blood and was becoming cool to the touch.

Casca wondered if she might be able to find some blankets to wrap him up with, then decided against it, for as strong as he is he wouldn't be able to warm up, fight off illnesses, and heal his wounds in the state he's in right now. After all having next to no aura in a situation like this was a bitch and a half to deal with.

So that only left Casca with one option, "I really hate you, for this. I still don't even know your name. Making me fucking lay next to you like this, really pisses me off. Just know this, when you wake up, I'm going to make your life miserable. There will be nowhere you can escape my wrath."

While she was ranting she removed her armor, placing it on a nearby mannequin. With one last angered look the teen got underneath the sheets. "Ugh, my dignity, I can feel it slipping away from me."

The young man next to her was in great shape. Although ignoring this all together would be ideal- no better yet not being there altogether would be ideal but she couldn't really afford to do that, otherwise he'd probably die. Thankfully all she really had to do was stay here and provide some heat before his aura kicked back on.

Unfortunately draping herself over him and feeling his solid muscles and frame and again her own really had a way of making her angry with this situation. But Griffith had a way making her do things that she really didn't want to do, and while he was technically at fault for this specific situation she still couldn't help but blame this young man.

She soon found that his aura was purple, she hadn't seen it in the earlier fight, she was still catching her breath from when she thought she was going to get cleave in half. Now that she actually stopped and looked at him she couldn't help but wonder what his age was since his jaw line still had the barest remains of baby fat.

After sometime, which if the young woman had to guess was about 12 hours, the guy she was sleeping next to was starting to heat up on his own, which she took as her que to leave. So with movements none too shy about disturbing the person next to her she got out of the pallet and made her way to her armor.

Although the man didn't so much as twitch while he slept Casca was still angry about even needing to do this in the first place. So with one more angry look on her face she threw on her armor and marched out the door.

"Hey Casca why were you in tha-" A fist to the mouth of the man quickly shut him up, and the dark skinned woman stomped away toward an area where training dummies were.

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Guts didn't recognize where he was specifically, but he knew he was fighting. Who his for was, their numbers and motivation to fight remained unimportant. The force he fought had no features to give them distinction, they only held the general shape of men and women some armed with weapons others making use of semblances that would change from one moment to the next. In this place the only thing that could seen to resemble consistency was the environment.

The sky only had the moon in the sky no stars were visible. The feeling that the moon stared down upon the battlefield Guts was on present the entire duration of the battlefield. The battlefield was some type of shipyard where the crashing of the ocean against the rocks nearby the shore was loud enough to drown out some of the sounds of combat.

His for appeared as nothing more than Spectres of the enemies he had laid waste to in the past. Deflecting, countering cleaving. Moving at speeds that would render most men blind to the actions to Guts fought of this army threatening him. Swinging his blade for all that it was worth yet had no purpose.

A Spectre that mimics the shape of a giant Lycan stalks through the army of featureless silhouettes. Crushing many underneath it's massive paws pushing aside shipment containers with ease. Though it resembled a Grimm with it's black fur coat and size, it simply couldn't be one. It grinned a grin with far too many teeth, a grin that could only spell out pain for the one it's gaze landed upon. Guts couldn't help but get the feeling that this battle would subject him to a fight beyond anything he'd ever experienced in his life.

As he made eye contact with the Lycan Demon's eyes which glowed white with a rage that Guts didn't think any Grimm could faithfully replicate.

Then it's maw descended upon the raven haired boy, who try as might was far too slow even shift out of way. The jaws of the beast held around his midsection shearing easily through his armor and aura yet left him unscathed within it's grip.

Craning his neck to stare in the blank eyes of the being that he was at the mercy of the warrior couldn't help but feel terror. Unlike the battle against that damned hawk he was outclassed in every way possible, but… he still had blade in his hand, he could still fight. He would still fight…

Gathering all the strength in his frame Guts plants his feet down firmly within the beast's mouth, contracts his core inward, and Swings his arms forward gripping his blade as tightly as could manage. And swings, the blade crashes with tremendous force causing the air to shriek in the brief time that it was in motion. The strike lands true on the fangs of the beast, and the sword shatters.

And suddenly Guts can no longer feel his legs and is falling through the air. He catches the of his intestines before his torso turns towards the ground and everything turns dark.

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It was dark when the adolescent mercenary awoke.

He was in a tent that seemed to be used for general storage if the rice bags and various sets of armor and swords told him anything. His own equipment was resting on top of a crate that seemed to serve no purpose.

'That's weird, why would he allow me to remain armed if I am supposed to be his slave. Even if all he wants to just use me to fight it would make sense to keep me from accessing my weapons with ease.'

Though he cannot find a reason they'd let him arm himself. Still, being armed in an unknown place brought comfort to the youth.

The brightness of the campfires outside caused him to squint his eyes, momentarily obstructing his view of the campgrounds.

It was as he was in the middle of the day given the amount of light that was given off the flames. Cheering of young men and the roars of the older hands could be heard everywhere. It was the standard that any mercenary band could be seen having after a string of successful jobs and good profit.

It appears as though his killing of those men earlier wouldn't affect anything in the short or long term operation here. Walking up to the fires, Guts is easily able to discern where Griffith's point of observation, it sat upon a burm a large enough to hold a tent that would likely act as a meeting tent of sorts. And in front of said tent was a bonfire that easily provided enough light to reach the rest of the site down below.

Figuring that was where he ought to go the raven haired young man walked through the many bodies under the hawk's employ.

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 _ **Boy oh boy. It's been a long time. Going to Infantry School is demanding. But I finally managed to get something I can be somewhat proud of.**_

 _ **Also I have some more TAIB**_ _ **ideas in mind so you can expect some more goofy shenanigans eventually sometime in the next few months. I'll push for next month.**_

 _ **P.S. if you have ideas for Taib feel free to let me know.**_


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